Second Time Around: A Montana Men Novel

By Breanna Cone

Peter White, aging foreman of the Randolph Ridge horse ranch, bemoans the rigours of his job when an inheritance from James Randolph offers him the perfect chance to start a second career.

His wedding plans to marry a high school sweetheart are underway when a secret from his past throws his world for a loop. The engaged couple must alter their plans but will their relationship survive the changes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491733189

Breanna Cone

Breanna Cone has been writing since 2001. Her Spencer City Series characters are portrayed as small town citizens who live life to the fullest and truly care about the rest of the townspeople.

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Copyright © 2014 Breanna Cone.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-3317-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-3318-9 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 05/09/2014

Cover Design By Eva Bakalekos

Contents

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IN LOVING MEMORY

of

CARL JOSEPH IANNACONE

1952-2013

1

Twirling around the dance floor had made the Randolph Ridge foreman remember how nice it was to hold a woman in his arms. Peter White had wasted too many years when he could have had companionship, if not love. Maybe, it is time I changed that situation.

Turning into Gwen Joneses’ driveway, Pete pulled the keys from the ignition. Walking with her to the front porch, he unlocked the door then handed her the keys. Leaning against the door frame, she smiled at him.

Do you remember our last date?

I remember your Daddy meeting me at the front door, shotgun in hand.

You were eighteen and a wild bronco rider who planned to follow the rodeo circuit. I was just fifteen. Daddy was only protecting his daughter.

He had good reason to chase me off, Pete admitted. My intentions were not honorable. Teenaged boys are only interested in sex.

I remember. Gwen smiled at the memory.

After all these years? Peter Smith asked.

Gwen Jones put a hand to his cheek to make sure he looked into her eyes.

A woman never forgets her first lover, regardless of how long ago it was.

Taking a step closer to her, he put a hand on the wall of the house. Would you like me to refresh your memory?

Gwen turned the knob and pushed the door open. I thought you’d never ask.

Pete used one hand to close the door and twist the deadbolt lock. Pulling her closer, the foreman put his lips on Gwen’s for a quick, hard kiss. Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it in the general direction of an easy chair while Gwen began to unbutton his vest.

I can do that myself, Pete told her.

But you’re too slow.

We’ll see about that. Pete swung her into his arms and headed down the hallway. Which way?

Last door on the right.

Soon they were lying in bed, skin to skin.

I hope I remember how this works, Gwen said.

It’s like riding a bike. It all comes back the minute you climb back on.

Shut up and kiss me.

Yes, ma’am.

No more discussion was needed as the couple rediscovered familiar places guaranteed to excite the libido. Later as they lay in a sated state, Gwen trailed a finger down through the sprinkling of gray in the chest hair of the man beside her.

Why didn’t you call me when you got back from your rodeo adventures?

You were headed off to college and I didn’t think it was fair to expect you to give that up for someone who didn’t have much to offer.

It amazes me the crazy notions a man gets, Gwen remarked. Love would have been enough.

I realize that now that I am older and wiser.

I guess it just wasn’t our time, especially since by spring break of freshman year you were mixed up in that love triangle with Donna and John Edwards.

One that didn’t end well for me.

Have you recovered from her rejection? Gossip around Centerville is that you and John are not on the best of terms.

Pete caressed the soft skin of her arm as he considered that question. He wasn’t in love with Donna anymore. The years had lessened the emotions to a faint memory. He guessed it was mostly male pride that kept the hostilities alive. A man never likes to be the loser in any game.

I won’t deny that it irritates me to see them together especially when I consider it could have been me in his place. But living in the past is only for fools.

Does that mean you are ready for a relationship with a real, live woman who could love and cherish you?

Pete smiled and kissed Gwen’s lips. I am if that woman is you. The embers of first love remain in a secure part of a man’s heart just waiting to be rekindled.

Where did you learn that BS?

Must have heard it in a movie, the foreman replied with a cheeky grin. Too sappy?

It is for a died-in-the-wool cowboy.

Snuggling up to the woman, he laughed. That’s what I like about you, Gwen. You keep me in line. No blarney allowed.

Placing her head on his chest, the widow drifted off to sleep with a contented sigh.

Pete awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon cooking and the aroma of perked coffee.

He slipped from the bed and padded into the master bathroom as naked as the day he was born. Sniffing the air, he recognized the cologne that Gwen wore. It permeated the room with the sweet smell of roses on a warm sunny day.

He was in and out of the shower in record time because his stomach rumbled with hunger. The foreman entered the kitchen just as the widow was dishing up the scrambled eggs and bacon on a platter containing a stack of toast and hash browns.

I thought we could have a quick breakfast before we collect your truck from the church.

I can’t object to that plan. It looks wonderful, he told the cook. Breakfast nook or kitchen counter?

Kitchen is the closest and coziest. Besides the food is already on it.

Your seat, madam.

Pete made a bow and held the bar stool while she hopped up on the padded seat. He joined Gwen as she poured coffee and juice from the carafes. Lifting her glass, the widow made a toast.

To the future.

May it be filled with wonderful adventures, Pete added.

* * *

Dancing Queen and the Princess scampered to the fence for the morning treat they knew Mitch Randolph kept in his jacket pocket. Holding out both hands, he smiled when the foal nudged his fist to remind him to open his fingers.

The new missus of Randolph Ridge watched as her husband interacted with the mare and foal. A gentle man who cared for his animals with respect for their brute size and in turn they returned his affection with loyalty.

What is the daily feeding routine? Kristy asked.

Except for the mares and their colts, most of the breeding stock is contained within these four corrals. So we only have to distribute fresh hay and put oats in the feed bags on the fences.

You do the hay, I’ll fill feed bags.

Within an hour, they had accomplished the morning feedings. Seeing his wife rubbing the nose of the Black through the corral fence, Mitch headed that direction.

Let me thank you for your help with the morning chores.

Gathering the woman in his arms, Mitch pressed her against the fence post and kissed her enthusiastically. Neither one of them, heard the foreman approach until he cleared his throat.

Ahemm! You try that method of payment with me and I’ll slug you.

Peering around Mitch, Kristy saw Pete and his dance partner from the reception, Gwen Jones, staring at them with knowing looks.

Good morning, Pete, Gwen, Kristy told them.

This announcement made Mitch whirl around quickly with a sheepish grin on his face.

Morning, ma’am. Pete.

Boss, Pete said. As soon as we get back from the airport, José and I can run out to the back forty to put out hay for the horses and check on the colts.

Thanks. Since it didn’t take two to drive the Mule, Mitch knew his foreman was trying to give them a little more privacy for honeymoon activities.

Pete, I think you should change your clothes before we go to the airport, Kristy smiled at him. The Arizona men will think you never made it home last night.

Gwen laughed at the blush that covered Peter’s face at this observation.

Mitch, you should teach your wife that it isn’t polite to make impertinent comments, the foreman admonished.

Kristy allowed the imp in her to stick out a tongue in reply then linked her arm with the widow.

I think the men can handle the rest of the chores, the rancher’s wife said. Can I offer you a cup of coffee, Gwen?

I’d love a cup.

Pete watched the widow sashay toward the ranch house with the new missus. The swish and sway of her hips made him wish he had time to continue renewing their acquaintance. Instead, he headed toward the foreman house. I’d better change out of this suit.

Yeah, that would be good.

The foreman paused to speak his mind on a certain whippersnapper’s meddling.

While I enjoyed the fruits of your Cupid’s arrow, it’s a good thing there were several Mrs. Joneses’ at the reception or Gwen might have been embarrassed.

Sorry. I guess it was a little obvious, huh? Mitch replied. Is she going with us to the airport?

No, the foreman said. She drove me to the church to pick up my truck before the congregation could arrive this morning. Discretion being the better part of valor. Mitch’s puzzled expression made him explain. To protect the lady’s reputation.

I understand. It would be very suspicious behavior if someone recognized that the old clunker belonged to you since you don’t attend services. They might put two and two together and get four. Mitch grinned at the old reprobate’s chivalrous act. Are you sure nobody saw you together?

You’re a funny man today, Pete declared then changed the subject. I take it all is going well with the honeymoon.

Oh, yeah. Amazing, in fact.

Pete let that awed reply hang in the air for a few seconds. It was nice to see the boy happy. The past ten years had been filled with too much sorrow. Did Kristy like the hot tub?

Yes. It was a great surprise, Mitch stared into space for a second. "It will be our favorite place to be at the end of the day. She thanked me quite nicely."

Pete eyed him for a minute until his meaning became clear. Giving the younger man a stern look, he made a request.

Since there isn’t a doorknob to hang a do-not-disturb sign on, you be sure to let me know when you plan on enjoying your new favorite place. I’d hate to walk up to the house and interrupt, the foreman’s eyes twinkled. I wouldn’t mind seeing Kristy au natural but not you.

"I’ll give you plenty of warning AND confiscate your binoculars."

Spoil sport. Pete headed to his house in a trot before Mitch could throw the clump of dirt and dried manure he’d picked up.

The two women sat in the patio chairs sipping coffee and discussing the wedding events from last night for thirty minutes, careful to avoid mentioning the after ceremony events.

I hate to drink and run but I need to get back to town, Gwen told her hostess.

I’ve enjoyed your company. Feel free to drop by anytime. Kristy stood up and walked to the edge of the patio. I hope we didn’t embarrass you with our reception song shenanigans.

Not at all. It was actually a good thing, Gwen told her. Peter and I dated back in high school so it let us… reconnect.

Really! Now that sounds like an interesting story.

I’ll tell you about it sometime. Goodbye, Kristy.

Have a nice day, Gwen.

Gwen headed to the front of the ranch house where her car was parked. Shading her eyes, she turned to scan the corral area for one Peter White. Suddenly, the man rounded the corner of the barn. The woman raised her hand to wave goodbye.

Wait a second, Pete called out then broke into a run, arriving short of breath at her car.

Never had a man run toward me before, Gwen teased.

I couldn’t let you leave without telling you how much I enjoyed our night together, Pete said. Any chance I can see you again soon?

I’m visiting Mother in the nursing home today but I’m free this evening if you want to come over. I’ll cook dinner for you.

Best offer I’ve had all day.

Seven-thirty okay?

Yes. Leaning toward her, Pete gave her a quick kiss. See you tonight.

2

Pete sat on a hay bale finishing his morning coffee reminiscing about his new lady friend and their romantic dates. For the past month, he had spent almost every weekend with Gwen exploring the countryside. Reliving the past like two giddy teenagers. They fell into the routine of steady dating and found they were compatible in almost every aspect of life. Being with her was as easy as breathing. No angst whatsoever. They attended the dances in town, staking claim to each other in time honored fashion. Several of the good ole boys had asked for a chance to twirl the widow around the floor but the lady told them her dance card was full. This declaration made his heart swell with tenderness and puffed up his ego to the max. Taking a sip of coffee, Pete found it had grown cold, which meant he had better get back to ranching business. The foreman walked to the tack room where José was examining a pile of bridles.

I’ll be at the corral filling water and feed troughs.

You need help?

Nope. I got it.

It was a good thing the ranch routine was one he had performed for years because Pete’s mind was still filled with thoughts of Gwen.

The owner of Randolph Ridge and his wife entered the ranch barn that afternoon to find Peter White, their foreman, and José Vargas, their lone hired hand busy with daily chores. The announcement they were going to make might alter the workings of Randolph Ridge but it was part of the will and Mitch was legally required to execute James Randolph’s other bequests. The first bequest had turned out wonderful. Mitch only hoped the rest would be as good.

Mornin’, boss, Pete said.